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I Was Just Wondering…

January 16, 2013

What the fuck is happening to my life? And by life, I mean- beauty control.

Guys… Seriously… Something is happening.

hairy

No, that doesn’t mean I’m surrounded by men in my bed.

I had hairy legs. For like….weeks. Weeks. 

I’m actually pretty sure I hadn’t shaved my legs since before Christmas. What I’m not sure about is this: WHEN DID I BECOME THAT PERSON? When did shaving my legs become a task that I simply had no time for.

The other day, when I looked down while sitting cross legged on the couch- bare legged save the tufts of fuzz that’d taken control like over grown foliage around a desolate house. My legs had become podunk landscaping.

But the root of the problem to my follicle folly? I don’t know. Busy? The only thing I have to defend myself is that I walked into Rite Aid twice last week, once they were out razors, the next time there was a line that wrapped the length of store. And yes, I will admit to being so effing busy that standing in a line for an hour after working for 10 didn’t appeal to me….or my beast legs. Specifically my beast legs, I’m pretty sure the hair joined together with the roots on my head to overthrow my brain function. It’s winter, maybe they wanted some warmth. Maybe they watched a documentary on Big Foot and thought how fun it’d be to pretend.

I'm alone in my furriness.

I’m alone in my furriness.

But I want other things more important, such as- not scowling at my own set of limbs, wearing pj shorts in my apartment (it’s bad when you’re alone with your legs and you still can’t bear to acknowledge their existence), having my boyfriend remember he lives with a lady, not a bro. Having me remember I’m a lady, not a bro.

I went into recon mode yesterday destined to shed the weight of hair from my appendages and remind my lady self that I should be a smooth, porcelain skinned woman. Not a contestant in the “2013 Hairy LegAthon”. So on top of Ladyscaping that resembled a sunday afternoon with teenage soccer players locked in a bathroom getting ready for the big game, I also bought delicate “unmentionables” and a pair of uber lady shoes. So there.

This morning I awoke a woman; smooth legs from toe to mid thigh (i leave my top thigh nice and hairy, really fills out the thigh seam in jeans)………

face

I’m joking.

I was just wondering…when did I become the woman every woman secretly is but won’t admit?

PS- I refuse to say how many razors I used…but the fact I have to refuse the number let’s you know it was more than one. EW!

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